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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29760684">T-shirts and galaxies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/henriqua/pseuds/henriqua'>henriqua</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Lost and Found [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, Hickeys, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, kind of??</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:49:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>822</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29760684</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/henriqua/pseuds/henriqua</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I dunno. Smells like JJ,” Yuri says with a shrug, leaving Otabek to wonder how JJ's shirt has made it to their room.</p><p>He doesn’t really care.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Lost and Found [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2187231</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>T-shirts and galaxies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted on tumblr, and now shared here three years late!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Otabek rolls himself a blunt and listens to how the shower in the room’s bathroom goes off. He smokes slowly as the loud hum of a hairdryer takes over the small bedroom, Yuri kicking the bathroom door open after a while to let the steam out.<br/>
<br/>
Otabek is rolling another blunt when Yuri switches the hairdryer off and finally steps in the room, Otabek’s ears ringing in the sudden silence. He smokes lazily and watches from the bed how Yuri drops his towel to the floor without a shame, gets into black underwear and picks up a T-shirt from the floor lying next to his towel.<br/>
<br/>
“Whose shirt is that?” Otabek asks, and Yuri glances at him over his shoulder before looking at the shirt he just put on. It’s huge, too long even for Yuri, and doesn’t look familiar to Otabek.<br/>
<br/>
“I dunno. Smells like JJ,” Yuri says with a shrug, leaving Otabek to wonder how JJ's shirt has made it to their room.<br/>
<br/>
He doesn’t really care.<br/>
<br/>
Yuri sits in front of the huge mirror across the bed and takes a straightening iron, humming while he waits for it to get hot. He meets Otabek’s eyes through the mirror and gives him a smile; bright, warm, loving.<br/>
<br/>
“Mila’s playing with Sara today,” Yuri says, but actually he means to ask <em>are you coming tonight?</em><br/>
<br/>
“Are you bitter about that?” Otabek asks, taking a drag. Yuri laughs, and Otabek’s lungs are filled with sunlight instead of smoke.<br/>
<br/>
“About what? Not getting to sing? Nah, I’m better at making drinks,” Yuri says as he parts a small section out of his hair and runs it through the straightener.<br/>
<br/>
“Then why should I come?” Otabek asks, answering Yuri's original question.<br/>
<br/>
“Because Sara’s singing is amazing,” Yuri says, rolling his eyes. A beat of silence, a deep brown gaze finding an emerald one. “And I might get lonely.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’ll think about it,” Otabek says, but both of them know he will find his way to the bar sooner or later that night.<br/>
<br/>
Yuri plucks the iron out of the power socket, runs a brush through his hair, and then sets his work with a spray that smells like roses. Otabek blows some smoke to accompany the artificial roses in the air and bites the inside of his cheek to keep a smile away when Yuri licks his lips and stands up.<br/>
<br/>
Otabek doesn’t move a muscle when Yuri climbs on the bed, settles astride on top of him and takes the blunt from him. Otabek draws asymmetrical circles on Yuri’s hip bones and accepts the kiss pressed against his lips, sweet smoke slipping into his mouth. He hums and kisses his way down on Yuri’s neck, and the playful bite he gives at the skin under his teeth draws a content sigh out of the boy on top of him.<br/>
<br/>
“Beka,” Yuri laughs airily, trying to hide a gasp when Otabek deepens the color of the mark he just created on the pale neck. “Beka. I need to get ready for work.”<br/>
<br/>
“Or you could call in sick,” Otabek says even though he knows Yuri would never do that. Yuri loves his job; loves the chipped counter and its regulars, loves dancing to the bad music and dragging Otabek to the tiny backroom for heated kisses and white lines on a dirty table when he’s supposed to have his 20-minute break.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, you’d love that,” Yuri says with a roll of his eyes, and Otabek wants to tell him <em>I only love you</em>. He ends up sucking another bruise next to the first one and saying nothing, his breathing heavy when Yuri reluctantly pulls away and gets on his feet.<br/>
<br/>
The two bruises aren’t high on his neck but Otabek knows Yuri won’t try to hide them with makeup or clothing. He actually loves to show them off; loves when the customers on the other side of the counter stare at them and stop giving him drunken winks between drinks. Mila will definitely tease him about them, but that’s part of the fun, too.<br/>
<br/>
Otabek takes a drag of the shortened blunt and watches how Yuri slips into black skinny jeans, strips out of the shirt that keeps slipping off his shoulder, and opens the wardrobe door.<br/>
<br/>
“What do you think I should wear?” he asks after a beat of silence, and behind his back Otabek blows out smoke rings.<br/>
<br/>
“I think you look good just like that.”<br/>
<br/>
“Beka, I’m serious.”<br/>
<br/>
“Me too.” Yuri sighs, but Otabek can see the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He takes a worn-out T-shirt that has the sleeves cut off and pulls it on, tucking the long hem in so the shirt hangs loosely on his frame and reveals a pair of protruding collarbones and the bruises on his neck that are quickly turning purple.<br/>
<br/>
The shirt is Otabek’s, and they both know that.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><a href="https://twitter.com/avaruussade">twitter</a> | <a href="https://sleepyams.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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